


To get into the stream with you

by U_Bahnstation



Category: Burnt (2015)
Genre: Angst, Fix-It, Friends to Lovers, From Sex to Love, Happy Ending, Homophobic Thoughts, M/M, Misunderstandings, Panic, Suicidal Thoughts, Tony being sorry for his love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24538738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/U_Bahnstation/pseuds/U_Bahnstation
Summary: Drunk Tony asks for one night of sex. And then hates himself for it.(In the movie he shows more self respect than here)
Relationships: Tony Balerdi/Adam Jones
Kudos: 21





	To get into the stream with you

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written and translated almost a month ago. But I was afraid to post it. Maybe because it was the first time I’d written a sex scene in English. Maybe becase I read so many great fics about these guys that my own seemed to be not so interesting. I’m still a bit afraid. And I know, here are some mistakes. Sorry for them.

\- Ha! You lost the bet, Jones! - Tony smiles drunkenly and slaps Adam on the shoulder.

Chef folds his arms over his chest, - Well, what do you want?

Balerdi squints slyly, shaking some whiskey left in his glass.

\- I want ... I want ... - Tony finishes the contents with one big gulp and takes a deep breath, - I want you, Adam Jones, to fuck me this night. Right here.

The cook thinks he misheard, - Stop-stop, Tony, what?

\- I want you to fuck me, - maitre d’ repeats less confidently but still insistently.

\- Tony, don't you think you are too drunk?

He shakes his head in displeasure, - Do you think this is a momentary whim? You think I just came up with it now?

Jones sighs. Of course not. He understands perfectly how long Balerdi hatched this thought. And just now there was a moment to say it out loud.

\- No, some other wish, - he answers.

\- Nooo, - maitre d’ reminds, - we agreed. Any wish!

Jones is silent. This is wrong. He would never have thought of such a thing before, but now ...is Tony really so desperate? If so, then it is partly his fault. But partly, it's almost entirely on him!

\- What’s wrong?

\- No, Tony. This is really a bad idea.

\- Come on, Jones! - flushed Balerdi says whimsically, - Or what? Do I disgust you so much that you can't fuck me once?

\- You don't disgust me. But it’s not... - Adam’s last protest drowns when Tony puts his hands on his hips and sticks to his lips with a kiss.

\- Just once, Adam. For me. Please, - he whispers.

And Jones gives up. Tony's lips taste good. He even bites them while helping him to undress. The head waiter pulls him onto the bed.

\- Pretend that you love me, - he asks, throwing his head back.

Everything happens somehow by itself. As if according to a long-drawn up scenario. Perhaps, it’s flickering in Adam’s head, Tony really had this scenario.

When Adam is inside, Balerdi snuggles to him with his whole body. 

\- You have no idea how many times I have imagined this moment... - he says on an exhale.

Jones thinks it sounds kind of sad and doesn't say anything.

Adam moves fast and even a little rough. Balerdi moans loud, completely surrendering to his senses, realizing that this would not happen again. Jones holds him by the neck, runs fingers on his back, and Tony bends harder, allowing pain and pleasure to spill over his body. Adam cums at the last jerk and slowly lets go of maitre d’. He groans for the last time, and then neatly lies down, noting to himself that the sheet looks too wrinkled. Thoughts, one by one, begin to born in his still intoxicated brain.

\- Thank you, - Tony says, catching his breath. Alcohol inebriation goes away with inebriation from sex. He rubs his nose, looking at Jones.

Adam lights a cigarette and answers something slurred. Balerdi lies, hugging a pillow, and looks at him through the eyelashes. Adam frowns.

\- I'm sorry for all this, - maitre d’ whispers, feeling the first pricks of conscience. Probably all this was not so right.

\- Enough, Tony. It’s okey. Everything is good, - Adam touches his shoulder softly and adds after a moment, - Better sleep.

\- Yeah, - Tony turns to the other side, pinching the blanket with his knees.

\- G’night.

Jones smokes slowly. Tony tries not to move. Let him think that he is truly sleeping. Balerdi's head goes round, but this is nothing compared to what is happening inside him. What did he do? Was it worth it? What will happen next? Will they be able to pretend that there was nothing? Alcoholic dope disappears quickly, and Tony is becoming increasingly aware that, nothing will be as “before”. He ruined everything. This feeling fills him and the inner cry of despair is increasingly striving to break out. He bites his lower lip so that he does not accidentally sob.

Adam leaves in an hour. Gently gets out of bed, stands for a couple of seconds, as if in thought, and then quietly leaves the room. When the front door behind Jones closes, Tony lets himself not to hold back. Tears flow down his cheeks, tickle his nose and remain shapeless puddles on a perfectly white pillowcase. He screwed everything up. For the sake of one night, he lost his relationship with a friend. Adam will hate him ... From the thought of how they look away from each other, trying not to cross their eyes, Belardi becomes sick.

The room is stuffy. He jumps up, opens the window, catching a rush of cold moist air, and looks down for a long time. Too low. Nothing will come of it. Or maybe... Tony shakes his head, driving away the momentary desire to end everything.  
He sits back on the bed and stares at one point for a long time. What's next? Even tomorrow is covered in a hopeless veil. Behave as if nothing had happened? Talk to Adam or avoid him? The night seems endless. Several times Tony reaches for an empty bottle of champagne, runs through the numerous cable channels, and then with powerless anger throws the remote into the far corner, takes a knife a couple of times, but after drawing a cold blade over his skin, immediately puts it off. The night looks at him from the windows, promising to turn his life into torture.

He falls asleep just for some hours, surrounded by the cocoon made from the blanket. He dreams, of course, of Adam. At first he was as arrogant and straightforward, as always, cunningly squinting and smiling with his best smile in the world. But then he changes. The dream becomes a nightmare. Shyly hides his eyes, pulls his hand and is silent all the time. “It's all because of you, pervert. See what happened?” Jones whispers to him. Tony wakes up in tears when another half hour is left before the alarm clock.

\- You look rumpled today, Tony, - Helene tells him instead of greeting.

He does not even have the strength to laugh it off.

\- Are you okay?

Tony nods. Nothing is okey. Nothing at all, damn it!

The kitchen staff looks at him in disbelief. Someone slaps sympathetically on the shoulder. Someone advises to take sick leave if something happened. At half past nine Balerdi is absolutely sure that Adam has simply washed off and will never again appear in his own restaurant. Maybe this is for the best. He still decides to ask Helene.

\- Ah yes, for sure! I completely forgot! He asked me to give you this. - She pulls a note out from her pocket.

“He is leaving and doesn’t want to see me any more” flashes through Tony’s mind.

However, the note reads “Sorry, there was a need to urgently leave. Everything is fine. See you tonight."

Tony looks stunned. Is this exactly Adam’s handwriting? What does all this mean? Is he not angry? He did not fall into the sunset, leaving the maitre d’ to suffer and hate himself? Or is he mocking?

Tony spends all day on pins and needles. Somehow joining the work, mentally he rushes between “he will say that all is over, he will take the team and find another place” and “if he decided to talk, I’m not disgusted with him” and just “fuck fuck fuck it will be better if I die before this moment”.

Evening is a loose concept. Therefore, when at ten Adam does not appear in the kitchen, Tony loses hope. Hope for anything. Hope to see Adam one more time. He changed his mind. He hates Tony.

At half-past ten Balerdi’s phone vibrates quietly. "In thirty minutes in my room." Tony feels goosebumps running down his back. These thirty minutes become the most painful in his life. He doesn’t know for what to prepare.

He knocks on the door, ready to hear the worst that Jones could have invented that day. Fag? Agree. Pervert? Tony has heard it too many times. Asshole? He is sure he is. He can say what he wants. Oh God, Tony even thinks for a second it would be better if Adam hits him...

\- Come on, why are you stomping around there? - Adam's voice does not sound angrily.

Tony gets inside. Chef is sitting on the bed.

\- Adam, I ...

I let you do what you want. I let you laugh at me. I’m sorry, Adam. Tony wants to cry.

Jones shakes his head, - Wait, don't say anything. You’ll just spoil everything.

Maitre d’ looks at him frightened.

\- Tony, it took me a day to think things over. And I came to a decision.

Everything inside Balerdi seems to fall into the abyss. This is the end. It will be cold and official “goodbye”. It would have been better if Adam had shouted at him.

\- You ... you're leaving, right? - He tries to save his face and look at least not very upset, but the inner cry breaks all his insides.

\- What? - As if Adam does not understand the question, - Where am I leaving?

\- Well, are you going to quit?

\- Why's that?

\- Why did you call me then?

Jones looks Tony from head to toe. - Have you been thinking about this all day?

\- No, - he lies, - Just asking now.

His hands are trembling hard.

Adam grunts incredulously, - No, I do not quite, calm down.

Now Tony just doesn’t know what to think. - What then? What did you want to say?

\- You've already ruined the moment, - chef chuckles, - as I warned. All your stupid questions...

He trails off and looks in Balerdi’s face. He is silent, biting his lip. Hands still trembling. Jones can even say he sees tears in his eyes.

\- Actually, I wanted to tell you to date, - he finally says.

Fright and misunderstanding replace each other on Tony's face. Why does Adam asks? Out of pity? Or to laugh? Or does he feel guilty? It’s obviously he is mocking.

\- You don’t love me, - he says almost in a whisper.

\- That's right. - Adam is absolutely calm. He was waiting for this question, - but Tony...

Everything is broken. Sharp splinters. It can’t hurt more. Tony thinks he deserves it.

\- Great joke, Adam, - his voice is so small, so high.

C’mon. Strike the last blow. Finish me.

Jones looks at him softly, - Let me explain. I thought about it all day. And yes, you're right. I do not love you. But did I love anyone at all? Tony, today I rewound my whole life. All my relationships began as passion and ended as disappointment. I fell into them, and then got out wet and dirty, while dirtying others. With you it doesn’t work this way. It is not a fall. It’s a long-term ankle-stomping into a stream. In the stream, which I was so used to, that I did not notice that it had not dirt at the bottom, but clean sand. Yesterday you took a step a little further. And I perhaps by stupidity, maybe by the will of fate went after you. I don’t love you. I don’t love anyone. But of all the people whom I do not love, you are closest to me. I want to get into this water with you, Tony. Not to fall, wetting everything around, namely get into it. Step by step. Maybe then I finally understand what love is. Therefore, I tell you...

Adam looks at him again. He stands examining the toes of his boots and rubs his nose. Don’t cry, Tony. Just don’t cry. 

\- What do you say about it, Tony? - he asks.

That’s it. The final point. He sobs. Tears fall on his perfect suit.

Chef rises from the bed, comes close to him and hugs softly.

\- Oh, Tony. Schhhh, I’m here. I’m with you.

Tony is sinking deeper and deeper. To hell with all this, he is ready to sink. If it is a lie, let Adam laugh at his grave. 

But Balerdi wants to believe. He always wants to believe him. Adam is petting his hair.

\- You're a fool, Adam Jones, - he answers finally, - And I love you.

\- I know, - Chef smiles. Other words are not needed here. Adam kisses Balerdi's wet cheeks, - from now your fool.

This is the strangest confession. Tony puts his head on his shoulder. He’ll let himself believe Adam one more time...


End file.
